


N is for Nightcrawler and Narnia

by Zaphrina



Series: Darcy Lewis Crossover Madness [15]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Thor (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Mutant Darcy Lewis, Mutant Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29541615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaphrina/pseuds/Zaphrina
Summary: Darcy is kidnapped by NightcrawlerorDarcy is Lucy's handmaiden
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Edmund Pevensie, Darcy Lewis/Kurt Wagner
Series: Darcy Lewis Crossover Madness [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/175817
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	1. N is for Nightcrawler

Darcy was born with a visible mutation. It was what got her abandoned by her parents and sent into the foster system. Green scaly hands and vertical lizard-like pupils with a second set of eyelids. Her fingers were a bright poisonous green color that faded until her wrists, which were her typical pale complexion. She could also grow some mean claws if she didn’t keep them trimmed. 

So, when she grew up and decided to go to college, she concealed herself. She always wore gloves, even in the summer, and color-altering contacts that gave her the impression of round pupils. It wasn’t too hard, but it was inconvenient. She had no sense of touch past the gloves and she could barely see out of the contacts. Her usually heightened senses were dulled. But, Darcy wasn’t about to let that stop her from finishing school. Her soulmate mark was a self-fulfilling prophecy, a chicken scratch “ _ Are you the Doctor?” _ had inspired Darcy to get a doctorate. 

Unfortunately, she was still on undergrad when she met Jane, an actual doctor with actual research, and her life went to shit. Superheroes, monsters, and aliens were all now a part of her life, but she still kept her identity a secret. It’s not that she didn’t think Jane wouldn’t understand. But Darcy had never met any other mutants and had no reference to go on as how people react. That is, other than abandoning her and making fun of her and treating her like a second-class citizen.

She sighed. 

So maybe not telling Jane was a good idea, she could keep her secret to the grave. Except to her soulmate, who would likely ask to see her mark, which was scrawled on her palm. An unfortunate hitch in the situation.

“You coming, Darce?” Darcy was pulled out of her thoughts as she hefted another box towards the glass-encased room. Jane’s new lab. In Stark Tower - ahem - Avengers Tower. This would be interesting. 

“On my way, Boss Lady” she called as she huffed and puffed her way over. When she walked in though, the room wasn’t just filled with boxes anymore. It was also filled with people.

“You must beeeee Darcy Lewis?” a voice asked from in front of the box Darcy was holding.

“And you must be the guy who doesn’t help women carry boxes,” she grunted as she dropped the (likely fragile) box unceremoniously to the floor. She immediately cringed. “You must be Mister Stark. Our new beneficiary. Sorry.” She shrugged.

“I don’t like being handed things,” he shrugged back at her. “Also I thought the almighty Thor would be helping his lady.”

“Big Guy is off world,” Darcy elaborated. 

“Ah, well…” Mister Stark couldn’t be bothered to look up from his Starkpad. “Make yourself at home. Ask JARVIS when you need to get to your rooms.” And with that, he was out.

“For someone who has so many super friends, he’s not super friendly,” Darcy rolled her eyes at her own joke and looked over when Jane didn’t chuckle or make any sort of noise that indicated she was appreciating Darcy’s awful sense of humor.

“Janey?”

“Do you see that?” Jane was squinting out the window, but Darcy’s vision was shrouded in a haze of brown where her contacts covered her pupils. 

“Nope,” she shrugged and turned around. 

Suddenly there was a  _ whoosh _ of air and Darcy turned around, Jane must have been kneeling behind a box or looking at something because all Darcy could see were the tons of boxes and a blue wisp of smoke.

“Hello?” She called into the air. Nothing.

There was a  _ whoosh _ behind her.

“ _ Are you the Doctor?” _ it was just an accented whisper in her ear. “Stay still,” he said a moment later and Darcy’s eyes widened as a hand brushed against her own and another pressed against the small of her back. She opened her mouth to speak but suddenly her physical form was… gone. 

She appeared again outside. She wanted to turn and look at her captor/soulmate and give him a piece of her mind, but she was  _ whooshed _ away again. This happened several times, more and more nausea building in her stomach, until they arrived inside a room full of people.

“Doctor Foster?” a voice asked her. “Are you well?”

A hand burst in front of her hazy tunnel vision with a paper bag which she gratefully retched into.

“Wheels up in 10,” a voice started counting down. She must be on a plane or a jet. Something. She looked around the room, they were all wearing yellow and black suits.

“Which of you punk ass bitches just kidnapped me?” Darcy growled, looking around at the room. Some shifted foot to foot, some had the audacity to not even look remorseful. Slowly, a  _ very blue _ man shuffled his way forward, awkwardly knitting his hands together and smiling crookedly at her.

They were in the air by this point, and Darcy was about to break the news to them that she wasn’t Doctor Foster, when she looked again at the matching suits. What kind of villains wore matching suits? Were these actually the good guys? Good guys had matching suits. Maybe they just mistook her for Jane because she was in the room Jane was supposed to be in and Jane was out of sight?

“That would be me. I am terribly sorry for the nausea,” he scratched his head, pointed tail whipping anxiously behind him.

“ _ You’re about to be sorry for a lot of other reasons,”  _ Darcy replied, and the very blue face turned pale.

“Hah, you scored a doctor, dude,” a younger man slapped Darcy’s soulmate on the back.

“Yeah, about that,” Darcy glared at all of them. “I am not Doctor Foster.”

Silence. 

“And she also would not like to be kidnapped. So you’re going to do a lot of explaining before we touch down.”

“Why would we tell you anything?” the same younger guy walked over to Darcy, but she had eyes only for her soulmate, who was nervously shifting between smoke and tangible.

“You’re obviously not bad guys. Bad guys don’t wear tacky matching suits.” She deadpanned.

Her soulmate huffed a laugh.

“And you, what’s your name?” She eyed him up. He was skinny, but he looked tough. 

“Kurt Wagner,” his soft voice was beginning to grow on her, despite his incessant shy demeanor. 

“I am Darcy Lewis.” She knew offering up her name to her kidnappers was probably not her best idea, but she was finally getting over the nausea of teleporting and was getting butterflies in her stomach from meeting her soulmate. Who also had a visible mutation. Who would understand her. 

“We’re the X-men,” a woman with red hair neared her. “I’m Jean, and I’m terribly sorry for the mix up, but we require Doctor Foster’s expertise. We’re having spatial anomalies around our compound-”

“Why didn’t you just ask?” Darcy cut her off abruptly. Kidnapping was never the way to go. “Also what are X-men? X-women? X-people?”

“We’re mutants. But we’re the good guys, we keep people safe and fight villains,” Jean elaborated and Darcy raised her eyebrow.

“You’re all mutants?” She frowned.

“Is there a problem?” If Darcy had nothing else going for her, she had enhanced hearing. She could hear the tightening of Jean’s voice. 

“What? No,” Darcy rolled her eyes. “I’m not racist. Chill out. I just don’t have a lot of experience with other mutants,” she added.

“Other mutants?” Kurt asked her softly. He was still anxiously knotting his hands together. “This implies that you are a mutant, does it not?”

Darcy grimaced.

“Yeah, I guess I walked into that one,” she sighed. 

“Well, you will be welcome at our school then. Maybe we didn’t make a mistake picking you instead of Doctor Foster,” Jean said kindly, but Darcy rolled her eyes again.

“I don’t know jack shit about astrophysics. You’re going to need to give her a call.”

Jean frowned and nodded, walking away to confer with what looked like other adults.

Kurt sat down next to her.

“I am sorry for having kidnapped you,” he whispered.

“It seems to be a group effort, I can’t put all the blame on you,” Darcy bit her lip. “Though, I am glad to have found you. Maybe while I am at your compound, we can get to know eachother better?” Darcy wondered aloud.

“I would like that very much,” came his sweet reply, and Darcy couldn’t help but think this was possibly the best kidnapping she’d ever been a part of. 


	2. N is for Narnia

Darcy was a lady in waiting for the young Queen Lucy when she was crowned, though Darcy was only a few years older than her at the time. She was a young noble from Archenland, the closest country to the south. Her serving one of the queens of Narnia was a delight and an honor for her family. 

Queen Lucy was nine, and Darcy was only thirteen when she began serving her. They became fast friends. Darcy was always brought on her Queen’s wild adventures and worked as a sort of royal liaison with the locals. Darcy made sure Queen Lucy had bodyguards when she was entering a dangerous situation, she always did research before they went on diplomatic errands, and often settled disputes between the siblings. It was a lot for a young teen girl to do, especially when dealing with Queen Lucy’s teasing older brother: King Edmund. 

This was one such time. Queen Lucy and King Edmund were bickering about something or other, Darcy really didn’t know. It sounded like something about a Professor, but Darcy thought Professor Kirke was an odd sort of name. Anyway, it was brought to her attention that this was getting out of hand when the little Queen’s eyes started glazing over and her lower lip began to tremble.

“Now now, what have we got going on here?” Darcy interjected, walking closer to the situation and raising an eyebrow at the King and Queen.

“Nothing for you to worry about, I assure you. Just a bit of fun,” King Edmund smiled at her in a way that might have been charming if she hadn’t known he’d just brought his sister to tears. 

“Fun times don’t end in teary eyes,” Darcy chided him gently. She was allowed to intervene when these things happened, but she still felt she should exercise caution when reprimanding the royalty. “Now, Queen Lucy, what can I do for you,” she turned to the little girl and brushed a little dirt off of her shoulders.

“I’ve asked you a million times to call me Lucy, Miss Darcy,” Queen Lucy sniffled and eyed up her taller friend. 

“And you shall have to ask me one more time, Queen Lucy,” Darcy smiled serenely and distracted Lucy enough to dry her eyes and compose herself. “You know, when your kings and queens come straight out of the storybooks, it is hard to refer to them casually on a first name basis,” Darcy reminded her.

“I suppose you do make a good point. What do you think, Ed?” Lucy looked around, but the young King had escaped. Probably off to cause more mischief. He was a good person, and a wise king, but he smiled with secretive eyes.

It was Darcy’s sixteenth birthday. She was officially of marrying age. It was terrifying. Off in Archenland, her parents had been preparing a huge social event for her to meet suitors, but Queen Lucy was a wise twelve year old, and Queen Susan was perhaps even wiser at nineteen. They’d come up with a twisted plan to prevent Darcy from having to go home for the party.

“Well, my nineteenth birthday is the day after your birthday,” Queen Susan had told her all those weeks ago. “And I can’t have Lucy’s lady in waiting absent for what will certainly be an extravagant event. She’ll need you here to help bathe and dress her, and to assist her in all that she needs. Just like any other day but more important. You simply cannot go home. Your High Queen forbids it,” she ended it with a wink. Darcy knew very well Lucy could bathe and dress herself, but Queen Susan was looking for reasons for Darcy to stay.

“I shall break the news to my parents. I’ll send them a letter,” Darcy conceded with a smile, and quietly thanked High Queen Susan for her generosity later in the evening.

So now, it was her sixteenth birthday. Queen Susan’s birthday was on the morrow. But  _ somehow _ Darcy’s parents had requested an audience with the Kings and Queens, something political about Archenland and Calormen, and they brought along a… squire? Possibly. Some boy around her age. Handsome, but Darcy knew her parents. They would say he was there to learn about diplomacy, but she was sure he was there to woo her. 

She strived not to have a moment alone with her parents or this boy.

Unfortunately, while her parents were having their audience with the High King and High Queen (Edmund and Lucy nowhere to be found), the boy found her.

“You must be Lady Darcy,” he smiled and reached out for her hand, but she busied herself by brushing her skirts down and tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“I haven’t gone by that title in some time,” Darcy replied, trying to look uninterested. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, and saw two little purple shoes sticking out from below the curtain. It seemed like Lucy and Edmund (she was  _ finally _ comfortable referring to the two people she encountered the most by their first names) were playing hide and seek. A game she hadn’t heard of before, but had plenty of fun playing. 

“Well, a lady such as yourself should insist on being called by her title,” he insisted smugly, again reaching for my hand, this time catching it and holding it like a dead fish.

“I beg your pardon,” Darcy spoke slowly, confused as to his reaction.

“We are not soulmates,” he frowned. Darcy scoffed.

“You believe in soulmates?” she asked him, nearly affronted, but more so just confused.

“Of course, my lady,” suddenly the young pompous man was very serious. “When you first touch your soulmate there should be a spark of life, a fresh breath of air, and, more noticeably, the first words they ever spoke to you will show up on your skin. It is foretold,” he finished, but Darcy had enough of that. She was an independent young lady who didn’t need a soulmate to marry. She left him without another word.

The words stung though. She secretly wished for her soulmate to whisk her away and- Darcy started tumbling forward and was about to fall down the staircase when a strong arm caught her around the waist and spun her backwards into a tall chest. 

“King Edmund, I- I-” Darcy stuttered, blinking at the near fatal experience. Stone steps and her fragile human bones did not go well together.

“Darcy, how many times have I told you to call me Edmund?” Edmund used his hand to brush a piece of Darcy’s hair behind her ear, but when his thumb brushed across her flushed cheek a flood of emotions filled her. Suddenly the dull greys and tans of the castle were alight with reds, blues, greens, and yellows. Edmund’s bright blue eyes bored into her own darker ones, lips open in a soft gasp. 

Darcy’s heart was pounding and she felt as if she’d had a birthday celebration, Christmas, and coronation all in one. She felt as if she’d run a mile through a garden of tulips and roses and had come out not exhausted but exhilarated. She felt…

“I feel-”

“I know,” Edmund replied, eyes bright with wonder. 

“What’s going on here?” High King Peter was walking over with a raised eyebrow at the two teens tight in an embrace at the edge of the grand staircase.

“Well I was falling,” Darcy began, knowing it in her soul that Edmund would follow up with:

“And I caught her, but when we touched-”

“It was like nothing I’d ever felt before,” Darcy finished breathily.

“Well it sounds like we have cause for celebration! My little brother has found his soulmate!” King Peter exclaimed just as Darcy’s parents followed into the room. Though, given the King’s last words and the warm embrace Darcy still found herself in, she figured her parents would probably easily discern what was going on.

It was many years later until they married, not until they were fully grown adults. They knew they would wait for each other. They had a beautiful son, William, after Edmund’s father. It had been a long fourteen years since Darcy had started working as a lady in waiting for the young Lucy. 

Edmund had gone for a ride that morning with all of his siblings. Darcy had given him a swift kiss on the cheek as he left out the door, she was preparing venison stew for later. 

It was the last time she ever saw him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry, might add more to this eventually.


End file.
